Moment of Weakness
by LaedieDuske
Summary: Just a quick one-shot. Dean and my OC. Had the idea tonight, couldn't get it out of my head. Inspired by a fellow FanFiction writer. You know who you are. :-


**A/N Musicunderground - I cannot respond to you by mail (you're anon), but I wanted to thank you for your review! It brought a huge smile to my face!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Sam or Dean. You would not see me outside the house if I did - you wouldn't see them at all. **

**Written from Ren's POV, once again. Inspired by a fellow FanFiction writer. You know who you are. :-)**

Seeing them side by side, it is easy to get the impression that Dean is small. Considering the fact that Sam stands a full 6 feet 4 inches, Dean at 6 feet 1 inch is simply smaller than _Sam_. Given their occupation, both men have enough sheer muscle on their frames to take up a lot of space in just about every other way as well.

I, however, am not very big. At just slightly over 5 feet 4 inches, I am stocky but nothing compared to the two Goliaths I was traveling with. That meant I could share a bed with either of them and still not worry about invading personal space. That night was Dean's turn.

By the time we got to the hotel room, we were all so tired we were communicating in grunts. Drop the gear, lock the door, peel off some clothing and collapse into the beds.

Something woke me and at first I was not sure what. Keeping my breathing even, holding perfectly still I lay on my back and waited to see if something had breached our defenses. A soft rustle of sheets and the bed moved beneath me, I turned my head to the right and opened my eyes.

Dean was snoring softly beside me, the sound almost delicate compared to his large frame. His bare chest rose and fell to his own internal metronome. He was twitching slightly in his sleep, hands and knees moving in tiny spasms between the sheets. I could see his Adam's apple flutter every so often.

I had a flash image of a bulldog chasing a garbage truck and was so exhausted it almost made me laugh out loud. I swallowed the sound at the last instant and clapped a hand over my mouth. The sudden movement caused Dean to flinch and I froze, not wanting to wake him.

He swallowed and made a sound deep in his throat, almost a grunt. In seconds he was snoring once more, but his body was finally still. I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would drag me back under quickly. I had just started to succumb to the pull when he began to move again.

Frowning, I opened my eyes as frustration slid through me. What did a girl have to do to get some damn sleep? There was no violence to his movements, nothing to indicate anything was amiss. I would never have known why his arms and legs were so restless beneath the sheets if I had not looked at his face more closely.

He was having a nightmare.

His eyes were squeezed shut, his eyebrows drawn up and together. His mouth was open slightly, but the edges of his lips were tight. He looked so young and vulnerable in that moment, I felt a stab of pain run through me. The mighty Hunter, stripped of his defenses.

Moving slowly I rolled onto my right side closer to him fully expecting an elbow in the face if I should startle him. As I moved a soft whimper dragged its way out of him and his face registered pain. Whatever he was dreaming about was clearly getting the better of him. He huffed out a sudden breath as though he had been hit and I reflexively winced as his body tensed.

I reached out and carefully laid my hand on his taut stomach. He twitched slightly at the contact, but it did nothing to slow his heartbeat I could now feel racing its way toward some horror I could not see.

I wanted to soothe him, but I did not want to wake either of them so I said nothing. I started to gently rub my hand over the clenched muscles of his bare stomach, hoping he would somehow take some comfort in it. At first it seemed to have no effect, but I kept on anyway. The drag of skin on skin making the slightest whisper of sound in the dark.

After a minute or two he settled and I continued to rub small circles over his skin as the muscles unclenched and trembled under my touch. He finally took a deep, shivering breath and sighed gently as his large right hand came up and trapped my much smaller hand against his body. I wondered briefly what he would think in the morning when he woke up holding my hand to his stomach, but as he began to snore once again sleep clubbed me over the head and I did not resist.

If he asked I would explain, otherwise he never needed to know about his moment of weakness in the night.


End file.
